Chapter 49. The 4th of July

We began living with Newfies in 1986.  Our first, Max, was a rescue and after a great deal of energy and work, he became an incredible companion and visited children at University Hospital.  A year later, we decided we would invest in another Newfie to be a show dog.  Her name was Winnie and it didn’t work out in the ring.  

Both dogs did water rescue.  Max loved pulling carts with screaming children behind him.  Winnie, not so much.

But both dogs adored, worshipped, and protected children.

So, one summer my sister-in-law, Jane, decided our garden would be the perfect place for her day camp “Tickles and Tennies”.  Fifteen children aged 3-5 arrived daily.  Max and Winnie greeted each one while parents stood in horror that the bears would eat their children.

But apparently the opportunity to have a few hours of free time away from toddlers overcame the fear of their children returning half eaten.

We had a small pond we had created for our ducks.  And, of course we were concerned a child would wander back and get in trouble.

No worries. The Newfs stationed themselves at water’s edge and made sure no child even dipped a toe into the water.

I guess it made sense to Jane to have a 4^th of July parade.  And if there was going to be a parade, there had to be floats.  The most convenient float material happened to be two Newfoundland Dogs whose collective weight was 300 pounds.

The children festooned the dogs in red-white-blue crepe paper, bows, and small American flags. The children all had hats, patriotic colored paper necklaces, and bows.  They considered quite carefully how they would control their Newfoundland floats and decided that yarn would make the best leashes.

I watched from the front yard as the children paraded down the street with their floats controlled with the yarn leashes.  The dogs ambled happily towards the park located a couple of blocks down the hill. It was pure magic.

The children returned full of energy, giggles and stories to tell their parents.  The Newfs were exhausted. The absolute unconditional, patient gentleness of the breed astounded me then and has never disappointed.  

After those beautiful dogs died, we continued living with the breed. Over 40 years, we loved 7 Newfies. Each gentle. Each magical.